


nothing better

by turnyourankle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Photographer Harry, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy Kink, Smut, You've been warned, but no actual mpreg, that tag sounds so kinky but you know what! that's what it is tbh, this is really sappy, you get the gist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourankle/pseuds/turnyourankle
Summary: Harry and Louis aren't expecting children just yet, but the thought of if turns them on.--“Can't wait for it to be me, s’all.”Harry follows the statement with a kiss, the familiar heat and taste of Louis’ mouth just relaxing him further, his knees squeezing tightly around Louis’ middle. His body is humming with want, aching to get closer to Louis.Louis shifts, allowing for his arms to wrap around Harry's waist. A quick pinch at his love handles to tease him, following by soothing thumbstrokes. “Walking down the aisle? Or the baby bump?” Louis asks gently. He rubs his nose along Harry’s jaw, making sure Harry doesn’t have to look him in the eye as he answers, if it’s too raw. Always so considerate, and Harry cradles Louis’ face, tilting it up so they can make eye contact.Harry flaunts a crooked smile, hoping it comes off playfully before he answers, “Both, maybe.”





	nothing better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louisnuggets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisnuggets/gifts).



> This is a pinch hit for the Top Louis Fic Exchange, apologies for taking so long but I was without a laptop for a very, very long time. As always I like to write prompts that take me out of my comfort zone which this very much does. I hope it lives up to your expectations, giftee! And hopefully some other people will enjoy it as well.

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” Harry asks before his voice cracks and his chest rumbles with a moan. He sinks deeper into the sofa as the pads of Louis’ fingers work the soles of Harry's feet thoroughly. His toes twitch when Louis hits a spot just below his arch and holds it, the nerves being stimulated leaving making Harry melt.

“Isn't that what the synced calendar was for?” Louis asks with an upward lilt to his tone. The way his thumb rubs circles along the sides of Harry’s foot before switching to the other suggests he doesn’t actually mind being in this position, but still. 

“That wasn't to trick rubdowns from you,” Harry says and he knows that Louis knows that. The calendar syncing is for Harry’s not-so-inner control freak, who wants to itinerize his whole life’ wants to know exactly what each day will bring, wants a schedule and to be able to stick to it. His flexible photographer’s hours has left him with an even stronger desire to be organized. If he can’t have routine, he wants the semblance of it. Which is why he’d asked Louis to sync his calendar with Harry’s as their first anniversary gift. It’d been more nerve-wracking than calling him Louis his boyfriend for the first time because it suggested Harry wanted their lives to be properly interwoven in practice, not just in theory. He wanted to know when Louis had footie practice after work, or LAN parties with his friends from uni, or a school function for one of his siblings. 

But as with everything, Louis had surprised Harry with the ease with which he agreed. “If it makes you happy, sure,” Louis’d said and followed it with the press of a kiss against Harry’s forehead. Harry had watched him share his Google calendar right then and there, and while it wasn’t structured the way Harry was used to, bare in its content, comparatively, Harry grew used to deciphering it and Louis started filling it in more diligently. 

It didn’t take long until Louis used the calendar to his advantage as well, surprising Harry with tea and stir-fry hot and ready when he came home from a long shoot and sending traffic updates that were relevant to Harry’s schedule when Louis was up and out of the flat before him. And the surprise foot rubs weren’t so bad, either, although those weren’t quite as frequent.

“Really? Me knowing about exhausting wedding shoots to be followed by long engagement shoots with barely any days off _isn’t_ a ploy to get my fingers working?” Louis asks with a wink and a suggestive tone. Harry wiggles his feet against Louis’ lap. Louis’ grip remains firm and Harry just sinks deeper into the sofa. There's a dull ache in his lower back from odd positions he’d taken to photograph the Wilde wedding. Louis reads him well enough that he offers up one of their decorative pillows from the floor, and Harry wedges it behind the small of his back. 

“I guess they had some odd requests, huh?” Louis asks, moving his tight grip to Harry’s ankles, fingers working skillfully just below the hem of Harry’s pants, rubbing at the hairs just above his feet.

“Nothing more than usual, just--” Harry lets his head tip back when Louis moves over to his calves, tight from having run around all week and not having time to hit the gym. Even over the fabric of his trousers, the touch feels great. “--just, Kelly was a bit self-conscious so I had to retake a lot of the photos ‘til she was satisfied.”

“Hm, the pregnant bride,” Louis hums, clearly remembering Harry’s stories about her. Harry’d worked with her for a long time. They’d met when her parents had hired him to take her graduation photos and they’d hit it off well enough that she called him for her engagement photos, the pregnancy announcement photos, and now the wedding. She’d promised to let him know when the baby arrived but it still felt weird for Harry to have been there for all of her milestones only to be left out in the end. Maybe he’d get to do the family photos, but that was ways off. 

He suspected Louis knew that he was a bit blue over it, and that was more the reason that he was paying extra attention to Harry after his last assignment with her. It hadn’t been that much more draining than any other wedding shoot physically, but emotionally he was depleted. He might have shed a tear or two, hidden by his camera as he documented the exchange of vows.

With a soft exhale, he says, “Yeah.”

“Must’ve been exhausting for her,” Louis says, the concern still evident in his voice. 

“She seemed okay, really. Had nothing to worry about considering the way the groom kept looking at her,” Harry says, an uncontrollable smile playing at his lips. That really is his favourite part of working with weddings. Capturing the uncontrollable expressions on their faces when taking such a declarative step together. It makes his heart beat double time just thinking about it.

“Must be tough, though, such a long stressful day while heavily pregnant.” There is a hint of concern in Louis’ voice. Christ, how Harry loves him and his endless capability for empathy. It makes his heart ache to know Louis can be genuinely concerned for the well-being of someone he’s never met. Harry’s hit with a wave of gratitude that the two of them found each other, that he gets to experience Louis like this. That he’ll one day get to have his own engagement, wedding, and pregnancy announcement all with Louis by his side. A shiver of anticipation travels down his spine, the hairs on his legs rising at Louis’ continued attention.

“Mhm, but so nice too, wouldn't it be?” Harry hums mostly to himself. Louis seems to catch on, the tips of his fingers folding up the hem of Harry’s pants so he can get better access to his calves. The intent massage continues, and Harry melts further into Louis’ touch. He knows once he’s pregnant he’ll be able to expect even more of this gentle attention, and the desire for it sucks at his gut.

“Sounding a bit wistful, there,” Louis says and it's followed by an inquisitive eyebrow quirk. 

Harry knows he doesn't have to mince words, not around Louis, so he doesn't hesitate to sit up straight on the sofa, stretching his legs out of Louis’ grip and squeezing tight around his middle, trying to pull Louis closer to him. “Can't wait for it to be me, s’all.”

He follows the statement with a kiss, the familiar heat and taste of Louis’ mouth just relaxing him further, his knees squeezing tightly around Louis’ middle. His body is humming with want, aching to get closer to Louis. 

Louis shifts, allowing for his arms to wrap around Harry's waist. A quick pinch at his love handles to tease him, following by soothing thumbstrokes. “Walking down the aisle? Or the baby bump?” Louis asks gently. He rubs his nose along Harry’s jaw, making sure Harry doesn’t have to look him in the eye as he answers, if it’s too raw. Always so considerate, and Harry cradles Louis’ face, tilting it up so they can make eye contact.

Harry flaunts a crooked smile, hoping it comes off playfully before he answers, “Both, maybe.” 

“Mhm,” is Louis’ only response, impossible to read, and it makes Harry’s insides bubble with anticipation. They've talked about this a lot, their future together. There's no ring on either of their fingers yet and they've only been living together for about a year, but they bought the flat because there was space for a growing family. There wouldn't be any stress to relocate once they got married and pregnant because they had already thought of it all. The actual execution of both is all that remains.

Harry has been looking forward to it, but not with any urgency until now. Perhaps it’s because they haven’t talked about it like this: bodies pressed up close together, Harry panting into Louis’ mouth and Louis’ hands palming at Harry’s rapidly flushing skin, seemingly very, very excited at the prospect. 

Harry’s body always longs to be near Louis, but he feels it more urgently now, with the thought of being with child and with a ring on his finger-- His eyes screw shut and he focuses on kissing Louis harder, trying to make his desire undeniable.

His shirt is unbuttoned, Louis’ fingernails tracing along the expanse of Harry's chest as it gets exposed. 

“You'd have to get a new wardrobe, I bet that's a plus,” Louis teases as his shirt gets pushed off his shoulders. He lets go of Louis just long enough for it to slip off of him, and he doesn’t bother pushing aside, leaving wrinkled under his back. He’s too eager to resume his hold around Louis’ shoulders, fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

Harry laughs, still, because it’s true. It would be a new, exciting challenge, adapting his wardrobe for a pregnancy. He can already predict hours spent in changing rooms watching how his bump will look in various outfits. 

His exhale is reedy, chest trembling as he answers. “Yeah, sure. Topman’s maternity line is all the rage.” 

“You'd make it work,” Louis says with unusual warmth. Thumbs pressing along Harry's flank, spreading his fingers over his stomach as if branding him. “You'd make anything work.” 

It's difficult for Harry not to get turned on when Louis focuses all his attention on him like this, it gets even worse as he pictures Louis’ fingers being spread over a swollen belly. The way Louis is looking at him, and touching him, he feels like Louis is picturing the same thing. Louis’ teeth dig into his bottom lip and his gaze is focused on Harry’s stomach as he palms him carefully. Despite Harry being hard and aching in his trousers, just having his stomach stroked is enough to have him trembling.

Harry takes a chance, allowing his belly to fill with air, puffing it out as far as he can. He even arches his back a bit to push further into Louis’ touch. “You'd like that?”

Louis’ breath catches and he leans back in for another kiss before dropping his face to Harry's belly. “You carrying my baby? You're asking if I'd like that?” he words it like a question, but he doesn't seem to want an answer, lips pressing a wet trail along the edge of Harry's stomach. 

Harry trembles as he keeps his belly extended, his breath short and hot as he allows Louis to explore. 

“I think it would suit you very well,” Louis punctuates with a jerk of his hips against Harry’s thigh. “Big and heavy. I don’t know how I’d keep my hands off of you.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“Mhm,” Louis’ hands travel up Harry’s chest, pinching at his nipples before cupping his pecs. No doubt envisioning what they’d look like swollen and sensitive. “You’d want all the rub downs, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“And everyone would know, wouldn’t they? That you were taken. That you’re mine.”

“They already do,” Harry whispers, because _oh_. He doubts anyone can look at him without seeing that his heart is already ensnared with someone else’s. 

Louis winks, as if to say, _You know what I mean_ , and Harry groans with a nod. 

“Wonder if all the hormones would make you smell different,” Louis comments before pressing his nose against Harry’s neck. He licks him thoroughly, fingers tightening around Harry.

It should sound weird really, but having Louis’ nose pressed against his neck, licking at him thoroughly has Harry shaking, breath laboured He collects himself enough to say, “Smell like you, probably.” 

Louis grunts, followed by another involuntary jerk of his hips. He seems as turned on as Harry, imagining their future selves. Imagining Harry’s belly bulging and his nipples dripping with milk. And yet, he asks with slight uncertainty in his voice, “You'd want that?”

“More than anything.”

“Christ,” Louis says with a squeeze of Harry's hips. With a blink of an eye Louis’ stood up, offering Harry his hand. He’s tenting his jogging shorts, the line of his cock mouthwatering. Any other day Harry would take the opportunity to just drop to his knees, mouth at it through the fabric with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Louis’ permission to touch his skin and taste it properly.

Not today, though. Not with Louis’ heavy lidded eyes and the twitch of his fingers as he reaches out for Harry, tugging him up from the sofa.

“Let's make a baby,” Louis says darkly, and it shakes Harry to the core. 

They can't actually, not yet, Harry’s still got another week on the shot before it needs replacing. Louis knows, since it's on the calendar, and he asked Harry just the other day if he wanted a ride to the clinic.

And yet. Harrys nearly vibrating out of his skin as he stands up. Legs gelatinous as he follows Louis towards their bedroom. He can almost imagine it, the future weightiness in his belly, the soreness of his chest, the feeling of being settled just out of reach. And the hormone induced horniness-- Christ, he has a hard time picturing himself wanting Louis more than he does now, practically shaking with the need to have him pressed close, being covered in his sweat and filled up. 

No sooner do they walk past the threshold to their room than Louis presses against Harry’s back, his stiff cock a familiar presence against Harry’s arse. “‘M probably going to be a handful.”

“You think I can’t handle it?” Louis asks, a bit of a challenge in his voice.

“I think I can’t imagine wanting you more than I already do,” Harry reassures, a flush high on his chest. His nipples are already pebbled with desire, the skin of his belly taut. He doesn’t wait for Louis’ word before undoing his trousers, hoping that Louis will follow his cue.

Their gazes are locked, and Harry walks backward towards the bed, allowing himself to fall onto it. Louis’ eyes dart over his face, cheeks sucked in like he’s trying to control himself. It’s one of Harry’s absolute favourite versions of Louis. The one that’s so transparent about how much he wants Harry. The one who still tries to hold back to make sure Harry’s on the same page at every step.

“If I’m too tired you’ll just have to ride me, won’t you?” Louis voice is shaky as he speaks, his arms trembling as he chucks off his clothes

Harry groans at that, fingers gently stroking his cock. He can picture it, Louis flat on his back, being used by Harry to satiate his hormonal impulses. The way Harry would rest heavily against Louis’ hips, grinding down as he chases his orgasm.

Louis licks his lips, kneeing onto the bed between Harry’s spread legs, warm hands pushing against the inside of his thighs. “Might have to mount a mirror so that I can see it good and proper,” Louis says, and Harry groans in response.

He can picture that, too. A full length mirror facing the bed, Louis sitting at the edge with Harry perched on his lap. Louis’ hands alternating between cupping Harry’s belly and pinching his nipples until milk would dribble out. He knows it’s supposed to hurt when the milk comes in, tissue engorged and stiff and still-- Harry knows he won’t have to worry about it. Any discomfort will be met with Louis’ unwavering touch, sweet nothings whispered into his his ear, mouth latched on for any excess milk.

As if Louis’ able to read Harry’s mind, Louis latches on to one of Harry’s nipples, sucking at it hungrily, tongue occasionally flicking against it. Harry’s already so sensitive, he hooks his legs around Louis as he lays over him. 

He has to pace himself, despite every nerve ending aching to be soothed. He pants desperately, arm shooting out towards the bottle of lube in the nightstand. He has to twist away from Louis to reach it, and his lips detach from Harry’s skin with a wet smack.

Louis’ lips look as swollen and tender as Harry’s nipples feel, and Harry thumbs at Louis’ mouth before crouching closer. 

“What if I want _you_ to keep the pace?” Harry asks as his flicks the lube open and passes it into the palm of Louis’ hands. He drops back onto the bad, arms flung behind him and gripping the headboard. “What’d you do, then?”

Louis’ eyes are heavy on Harry’s and flick down to his handiwork over his chest. He trails a hand along Harry’s ribs. “Depends on how you’re feeling. Could do it like this, at first. But your back might start to hurt,” Louis says absentmindedly and Harry’s stomach clenches. That Louis can even consider something like that, now, before he’s even pregnant-- _Fuck._

“That does happen,” Harry says weakly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Mhm, I know,” Louis says before inhaling sharply. Each of his features stands in sharp relief, and Harry’s chest aches. He’s so turned on and yet it feels like they have all the time in the world. “We'll have to do something about that, won’t we?” Louis continues, hands now gripping Harry’s hips.

“What do you suggest?” Harry asks, spreading his legs wider for Louis to get the hint. All that happens is he cups Harry’s cock, barely touching him and Harry arches into it. Louis is the only one that’s been able to do this to him with the lightest touch, have him keening and needy and desperate. Still, with his chest heaving Harry bites his tongue, waiting for Louis to continue.

“On your side, maybe,” Louis says, with hands now hooked under Harry’s thighs. Harry’s not sure if Louis plans on flipping him onto his side now, a reluctant whine low in his throat. “Not yet, babe,” Louis reassures before kissing him hotly. He lifts Harry’s legs over his shoulders, and shifts further down the bed. 

Louis mouths along Harry’s skin, tongue so hot it nearly feels like he’s being branded. He can’t help but imagine the inevitable stretch marks that will be covering his skin when he’s pregnant, right where Louis is touching him now. He digs his nails into Harry’s skin with reverence, and places a gentle kiss just below his navel. 

Louis bypasses Harry’s cock entirely, mouthing at his sac and slicked up fingers pressing just below, circling his rim. “We’ll have to take it easy, wouldn’t want to hurt you, ” Louis nearly whispers as one of his fingers breaches Harry’s body. Christ. Harry trembles his way through it, chest and stomach puffing out with staccato breaths, his neglected cock lying fat and throbbing against his hip. 

“Don’t have to be gentle yet,” Harry comments, hoping to egg Louis on. It seems to work; his legs getting spread as another finger pushes into him. Harry arches his back in response, trying to coax Louis’ fingers against his spot.

“I’ll cry if I don’t get your cock,” Harry says, and he knows he sounds petulant. But he feels like he’s been teased for hours now, the promise of being filled up held at arm's length. His mind racing with the desire to have Louis inside of him,

“Impatient. How’re you going to handle waiting for the baby to arrive if you’re like this just for cock?” Louis reprimands him. He sounds serious, but from the way a third finger breaches Harry’s arse, the way Louis prods intently at Harry’s prostate-- well. It seems he’s intent on teasing. 

“M’sure--” Harry starts, only to interrupt himself with a high whine. “I’m-- I’m sure you’ll help.”

“Hm,” Louis hums absentmindedly, withdrawing his fingers. Harry whimpers at the loss, his legs twitching and aching at being spread. _Patience_ , he tries to tell himself. He’s given himself over to Louis before, and never been left wanting. It won’t change now. 

“Baby going to be having my baby,” Louis says with awe as he cups Harry’s jaw with his hand. Harry wants to respond, but he’s left speechless as Louis pushes into him. 

“Yes,” he managed to mutter out once Louis’ is buried at the hilt. “‘M gonna have your baby.”

Louis groans, his head dropping to the nape of Harry’s neck. He starts a ruthless pace, driving in and out of Harry as if on a mission-- to fill him up, no doubt, and all Harry can do is hold on for dear life as his body is jostled against the bed. He's aware it, distantly, but the only thing he can focus on is the delicious slide, the sparks that scatter over his skin as Louis drives into him. 

“Gonna knock me up good,” Harry mutters again and Louis stills, grinding into him. Harry pushes back, tries to squeeze around him but it backfires, Louis quickly gasping and going rigid. Harry can feel him spilling into him, and his eyes flutter shut. This isn’t it. It’s not the time he gets knocked up. But it will be soon. 

“Fuck, baby--” Louis starts, trying to gather himself. He braces himself against the bed, face screwed up in concentration as he fucks Harry harder, trying to find the right angle before his cock goe soft.

Harry can’t help but reach down to palm himself, hand rough around his painful erection. He twists his fist in time with Louis’ thrusts and he comes-- just like that. On an broken exhale turned into a whine. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” Louis chants, gathering Harry into his arms and slipping out of his arse. Harry makes a weak sound of protest, and Louis soothes him. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” Harry answers as he gets cleaned up. A small whine escaping at the thought of being empty again, quickly stilled by Louis’ embrace. 

Louis won’t let go of him all night, one hand splayed on his stomach, nose pressed against his neck. It’s all Harry needs to decide not to re-up his implant next week.

 

\--

 

The first thing Harry does when he wakes up is remove the appointment with his doctor from his calendar. He doesn’t call to cancel it just yet. He does want to have the discussion with Louis, but this feels like a good way of coaxing the topic into conversation. 

He watches as his schedule clears, knowing it gets synced with Louis’ automatically. Not that that means he’ll see it right away. Louis’ got badminton with the lads, and probably won’t be looking at his phone for another hour or two. 

It’s fine, it’s totally fine. Harry has an engagement photoshoot to get to at the beach, which will keep his mind occupied. He dresses comfortably in a pair of worn jeans and a sweater layered over a flannel shirt, and a beanie. He has no idea how long he’ll have to be outside, this assignment far less detailed than most. 

A. Williams had instructed Harry to drive down to the beach and start taking photos when he saw fit. _The setup will be difficult to miss,_ the email had specified, which wasn’t quite as informative as what Harry is used to. 

Still, he drives down and parks south of the pier. He guesses that's the direction he'll be heading, but since there's no rush he can walk over there. 

The wind is brisk, and Harry doesn’t spot a single soul out on the sand. The water is still, lapping gently at the shore and Harry’s drawn to it, taking a detour near the water.

This is where he and Louis met, years ago, when Louis was a lifeguard and Harry was trying to catch his eye. He probably wouldn’t have agreed to such a half-baked assignment if it wasn’t here, since he rarely got the chance to visit.

As he walked along the shore he noticed something odd in the distance, red lines marring the sand. As he walked closer he could it was red pebbles planted to form a sentence:

OH MY LOVER 

This has to be what Williams was talking about. It's certainly difficult to miss. Harry takes a few photos, and wonders briefly if he’ll be requested to do the course again when Williams’ would-be fiance arrives. 

Harry continues on his journey, boots sinking into the sand until he finds the next installment of pebbles, this time spelling out:

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GET WHAT I WANT

He can’t help but hum the song as he keeps walking. It’d been on one of mixes he’d made for Louis when they’d started dating. Harry had felt so out of his depth, couldn’t imagine how to hold on to Louis. All he knew how to do was spill his guts, with his words, with his favourite songs

His suspicions about the direction are proved correct as he's met with more text at the base of the pier, this time stenciled in white. 

IS THIS DESIRE ENOUGH?

He holds the camera steady in front of his face, snapping as the text keeps appearing:

I WANNA BE YOURS

Repeating over and over the closer he gets to the lighthouse. The white of the text somehow looking brighter, more vibrant. He gets a chill when he reaches the door, turning around to take another photo from this perspective, looking back. 

“Mr. Williams?” Harry asks as he steps into the building. The light is on, so someone has been there. 

There's a slight commotion coming from one of the far rooms, and Harry has to shake his nerves off, fearful that he might be overstepping. He'd been told to just follow the hints, and that's what he's doing. 

He's ready to apologize to whoever is in the den when he steps inside, only to be left with his mouth open. 

“Louis?” Harry asks, his grip on his camera faltering. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to be taking photos anymore, not sure what Louis is doing here, in what seems to be an abandoned lighthouse where Harry has been brought on assignment. “What are you-- did something happen?” 

“Not yet,” Louis says with a smirk, lips rolling into his mouth before he ducks his head. 

Things seem to click for Harry in a matter of seconds, as Louis drops to one knee on the floor. “Oh my god,” Harry mutters, unable to control himself. “Austin Williams,” Harry mumbles to himself and starts to laugh. “I can't believe that worked.”

Louis shrugs, a devious smile playing on his lips. 

“D’you want to take a picture?” Louis teases, and Harry’s body surges with warmth. He nods, trying to blink his tears away as he snaps a few photos of Louis in front of him. All close ups of his face and the look that he’s giving Harry. A look he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget, but deserves to be immortalized.

“Harry--”

“Yes,” Harry blurts out, shocking even himself with the force of it. 

Louis laughs from where he's kneeling, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have a speech.” 

Harry slumps to the floor, crossing his legs and grabbing louis’ hands. “M sorry. I just. I don't need a speech to convince me.”

Louis’ lips squeeze tight, eyes crinkling with delight. “Do you also not want the ring? “

Harry fake gasps in outrage, swatting at louis shoulder. “No, you're not keeping that from me.” 

Louis’ laugh is pearly and high and perfect as he reaches into his pocket for a velvet box. He opens it to reveal two bands, says, “Thought I could wear one too? Since we belong to each other.” 

Harry inhales deeply enough that he's not certain all the air will fit in his lungs. “That sounds lovely.” 

He waits for Louis to pluck out his ring and slide it onto his ring finger, handing Harry the box to return the favour. 

“I think--” Harry starts, picking at the band. “Since we're here I have a proposal of my own.” He tries to keep his heartbeat steady, certain that the frantic pounding against his ribs can be seen, can be heard. 

There's a question in Louis’ eyes but he simply nods, shoulders drawing tight for a split second. “Okay.”

“I'd um, I'd like to propose that we start trying. To get pregnant.” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah?” Harry asks, heart fluttering wildly. 

“I guess it's a good thing your appointment got cancelled,” Louis says with a wink. Harry tries to contain his smile, but fails, cheeks aching with how wide it is. 

Louis wriggles his fingers against Harry's forearm,each of them still bare. 

“Oh, sorry,” Harry says, flustered before he takes Louis’ hand in his and slips the ring on. It fits just right. 

“Let's take a picture,” Louis suggests as his hand grips Harry's, steady and constant.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed it do let me know! ❤


End file.
